


On Bended Knee

by lilgulie5



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5
Summary: Sequel to The Pillar and the Stones...Now back at Dragonstone, Jon and Dany begin to prepare for their meeting at the Dragon Pit with Cersei. Once alone, Jon decides to reciprocate the same attentions Dany showed him the previous night.





	On Bended Knee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NorthernLights37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernLights37/gifts), [CallMeDeWitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeDeWitt/gifts), [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/gifts).



> I was so overwhelmed by the response to The Pillar and the Stones and the requests from a few people that I write another chapter. After thinking about it, I decided that it would only be fair if Jon returned the favor. I decided to make it a stand alone fic as opposed to a second chapter. 
> 
> As with The Pillar and the Stones, On Bended Knee is dedicated to NorthernLights 37, CallMeDeWitt, and LustOnMyFingers.

“Jon Snow, you’re standing upright,” Daenerys noted as she watched him walk gingerly to the row boat, Ser Davos close to his side. 

He was dressed once more in his bluish grey gambeson with his boiled brown leather armor over it, the gorget fastened around his neck. The color had returned to his cheeks a bit, but he still looked a bit wan. 

“Yes, Your Grace. I had a very...restorative sleep last night.” 

“That’s very good to hear.” 

Daenerys’s eyes lingered on him, perhaps for a bit too long before she turned and waited for Jon and the other men to load the wight in the boat behind her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. She had been gone when he awoke that morning and he was surprised to see Ser Davos standing over him, telling him that they had arrived on the shores of Dragonstone. Part of him wanted to ask if he had seen Dany that morning, but some things were better left unsaid. 

XXXXX

_ Knock...Knock...Knock _

Jon looked up from his desk and stared at the door. The hour was late. Later than Davos usually called on him, which either meant that something was wrong, or it was not Davos knocking on the door to his chamber. In his heart of hearts, Jon knew that it was not him merely by the sound. Davos’s knock carried weight and urgency with it. This knock was softer, gentler, but no less confident. 

He grunted as he pushed himself out of his chair, using the desk as leverage. He had been sitting for too long and his sore ribs rebelled against his movements. Taking a deep, pained breath Jon opened the door to reveal Daenerys. She looked beautiful, dressed in a simpler, grey woolen gown with her hair down about her shoulders. He had never seen her in such a state before, even the night before on the boat her hair had been half-back in her braids. 

_ It’s almost as if she was nearly ready for bed when she forgot something, _ he thought, noticing that she was alone. There was no sign of Ser Jorah, an Unsullied, or one of her Bloodriders who seemed to follow her wherever she went. 

“Your Grace,” he greeted her. 

“Dany,” she replied with a slight frown. “Remember?” 

“Dany,” Jon corrected himself, opening his door further to let her in.  _ That part was not a dream either _ . 

“In the coming days we’ll be meeting with Cersei Lannister. I thought perhaps we should discuss a strategy.” 

“A strategy?” 

“Did you think I came here for other reasons?” Dany asked, raising her eyebrow. 

“I would never presume to...you have that jar in your hands so…” 

“I was joking, Jon. I brought this in case your hands might still need it,” she replied, setting the jar on the desk. “They were in rough shape, but it is important that we go into the Dragon Pit being of the same mind. I doubt she will be willing to help us, to help the North, without asking for something in return.” 

“But that’s why we brought back the wight, isn’t it? So she knows how urgent this is?” 

“It is,” Dany nodded. “But knowing how the Lannisters are, she’ll want something in return.” 

“Your Hand is a Lannister,” Jon pointed out. 

“Yes. He is. He knows his family better than anyone. Yet we’re not our siblings, just as we’re not our parents. Tyrion had given me valuable council.” 

“I didn’t mean to question his council.” 

“I know. Whatever Cersei asks of us, we need to be willing to give it to her. At least for the time being. I hate her family as much as your does, but we need her men if we’re going to defeat the Night King. The fate of the North depends on this.” 

“We deal with the Night King and then we deal with Cersei?” 

“If we defeat the Night King, if the North is safe, then I’ll return my attention to Cersei. I know that not your fight, Jon.” 

“I bent the knee, remember?” Jon said, offering her a small smile. “If my Queen calls on us, we’ll raise our banners and fight for you.” 

“Jon,” Dany said, reaching out to touch his hand. “Do what you need to do to protect the North. I ask you this as Warden of the North.”

He wanted to protest, but instead he nodded wordlessly and glanced down at her hand in his. He thought about the way he reached out and took her had the previous day, as a way to comfort her. Dany’s hand had been warm then, it had been warm last night, and it was warm now, despite the persistent chill in the air. Her hands were small and her palms bore the calluses of a queen who spent her time not on needlework and household cares, but in the saddle and upon a dragon. She was a queen of action and her hands told a story. Even now, she sought to protect him and his people. Soon they would all see. She was worthy to be their queen. 

Without a word, Jon began to genuflect before Dany. The troublesome pain in his ribs made the motion awkward and before his knee could hit the floor her hands were gripping him behind his elbows. Despite her small stature, she was able to haul him back up to his full height. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked. 

“I couldn’t bend the knee yesterday so I thought-.” 

“And judging by the grimace on your face, you cannot bend the knee tonight either.” 

“A mild discomfort is all, Dany.” 

“It’s a figure of speech, Jon. I don’t need you to physically bend the knee to me.” 

“It’s not a figure of speech,” he replied, knowing she was trying to make him feel better. Torrhen Stark was not called The King Who Knelt because of a figure of speech. 

“Your ribs still trouble you.” 

“They’re better than they were. I assure you.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Jon took a step towards her, closing the distance between them. He had not realized until that moment that her hands were still on his arms. 

“You were gone when I woke this morning,” he said quietly, finding his nerve to broach the subject of her visit to him the night before. 

“I had to be,” she replied, seemingly unbothered by their closeness. “If someone had seen me…” 

“Dany, why are you here right now?” 

“I told you. It’s important for us to know each other’s mind when we meet Cersei.” 

“You could have brought that up at supper,” Jon reasoned, his lips so close to her ear now. “Why are you here?” 

“Because I wanted to be here,” Daenerys whispered, looking into his grey eyes. “Because I wanted to be here with you.” 

“Aye, there’s the truth now.” 

Boldly, Jon leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, slowly at first as if he was afraid she would push him away. To his great surprise, she sighed and opened her mouth to him as if she was asking him for more. Her arms tugged him closer and soon her body was pressed against him and her hands began searching for the ties on his leather gambeson. 

Jon cupped her face in his hands while she worked to unlace the garment, growing frustrated enough to break the kiss so she could look at what she was doing. Once able, Jon shrugged out of the offending leathers and pulled her back against him, not caring at the twinge of pain he felt when she crashed into his chest. When Dany tried to untuck his shirt, Jon stopped her, his hands gripping her wrists. 

“Dany, wait,” he said. 

“Why?” she countered, her lips nipping his again. “Should I not have come?” 

“No, I just-.” 

“You don’t want this…”

There was a sadness in her voice, as if she was disappointed and embarrassed at the same time. Her eyes darted about the room, searching for a way to escape, but Jon held her wrists firmly, his hands sliding down to hold hers. 

“Aye,” he nodded, glancing down as his thumb grazed the top of her knuckles. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come.” 

“Jon, I’m-,” she began, her voice wavering. 

“But you did come and I’m glad of it. Because I  _ do _ want this, whatever this is. Last night when you came to my cabin...I couldn’t believe it was real. I still can’t. Let me do something for you now.” 

“I don’t understand?” 

The corner of Jon’s mouth turned up ever so slightly and he kissed her again. He could have spent an eternity kissing her full, beautiful lips, but they lived in a world where tomorrow was promised to no one and he had other plans. 

Leading her over to his bed, he bid her to sit. When she had done so, with her legs dangling off the edge, he planted his hands on either side of her and brought his lips to her ear. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispered. 

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. 

He pressed his lips to her temple and reached to the head of the bed. Grabbing a pillow, he lay it on the bed behind her. Before she could stop him this time, Jon fell to his knee in front of her, forgetting about any pain he might have felt in that moment. Dany’s eyes grew wide when he took the hem of her gown in his hands and began to inch it up ever so slowly. 

_ Seven hells _ , he thought, when he realized she was not wearing the riding breeches she normally wore under her dresses, nor was she wearing her signature boots. Instead, she wore a pair of soft, painted leather slippers. Something like that could only have come from the Dothraki.  _ Did she know what she was doing when she came here tonight? Or is this simply what she wears when she retires for the night? _

His fingertips danced over the backs of her calves as his lips ghosted across the smooth skin of her knee and her inner thigh. Jon hooked her knees over his shoulders, bringing him even closer to her core. He tried not to compare her, Daenerys Targaryen was unlike other women, of that he was sure. 

Jon pushed her skirts up over her hips to reveal her cunt to him, the scent of her arousal tempting him, causing his cock to twitch.  _ Not now, _ he thought as he brought a finger up and dipped it between her lower lips. She was wet already, her folds slick and eager for him and he could not stop himself for delving in with his tongue. He lapped at her and when he flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit, Dany arched her hips off the bed. The gasp he elicited from her lips was one of the sweetest sounds he swore he had ever heard. 

As he worked and lavished her cunt with attention, he felt her lock her ankles behind his neck while her hands wandered and found their way to his hair. She pulled and plucked at the knot at the back of his head until his mess of black curls were free and tangled around her fingers. He would have smiled, had his mouth been otherwise occupied. He slid a finger into her cunt and thought she would practically box his ears when her legs tightened around his head, causing him to grunt. 

“Sorry,” she apologized as a laughed turned to a whine as he added another digit. “ _ Tolī.”  _

He did not have the faintest idea what she had just said, only that it sounded roughly more like Valyrian than Dothraki. He spoke neither of the languages, but knew enough of how they sounded from listening to her speak to the Dothraki and to Grey Worm over the past few months. Jon made a mental note of the word and hoped to ask Missandei what it meant the next day. 

He nipped and sucked at her clit, teasing it with both teeth and tongue, all the while sliding his fingers in and out of her now sopping cunt. She began to come fast and hard as her walls spasmed around him and her body writhed on the bed, calling out his name as she rode out her climax. 

XXXXX

“Jon?” Dany asked as she absentmindedly played with his fingers. They were lying on top of the coveres, her small frame tucked against him so that her back was facing him. 

“Hmmm?” he replied. 

“What was that you did? With your mouth, I mean.” 

“Some call it the Lord’s Kiss.”

“Oh…”

“Haven’t you ever…”

“No,” she replied quickly. 

Jon was glad Dany could not see the stunned expression on his face. She had been married twice and he heard Tyrion and Jorah mention a Daario something or other during his time on Dragonstone. To think that none of those men had ever done what he did seemed unimaginable.  _ Perhaps things are different in Essos. _

“I just...wanted to return the favor. It pleases me to please you.” 

“You’re quite good at that, Jon. But if you’re the King in the North, why is it called the Lord’s Kiss?” 

“Just an expression, I s’pose,” he shrugged, not overlooking the fact that she called him the  _ King _ in the North, despite him bending the knee to her. 

“It should be called the King’s Kiss.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I do,” Dany replied, turning in his arms. She ran her fingers along his beard and he caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I need to go.” 

“Or you should stay.” 

“Would that I could. But not here, we can’t stay together tonight.”

_ Not tonight _ , she had said and the words tumbled about in his head even long after she had tenderly kissed him and bid him goodnight. He had been disappointed in her gentle refusal to stay with him, but there was something in her words and in her tone that held a promise. 

_ If not tonight, then when?  _ Jon wondered as he tossed and turned, wishing he could sleep and dream of Daenerys.  _ When the time’s right, she’ll find a way to let you know.  _

**Author's Note:**

> "Tolī." is High Valyrian for "more". 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
